


Impatience

by melodycanta



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: At least I think I remembered Cecil . . ., Don't Judge Me, M/M, Movie Premieres, Thirsty Otoya, Thirsty Tokiya, my boys are thirsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 19:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17855948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melodycanta/pseuds/melodycanta
Summary: Tokiya is starring in a new movie, and Otoya just hopes it's not as boring as the last one.  Luckily, when the lights go down, Otoya finds one thing to fixate on.





	Impatience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tokutalia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokutalia/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Ian!!!!! I hope you have a wonderful day! (And I even remembered time zones this time; be proud of me! c: )
> 
> Yes, more thirst, hopefully no one's getting tired of it, but my 妹 is the epitome of thirst lol.
> 
> Both movies mentioned are completely my own creation; they don't exist as far as I know, but they are both broad enough concepts that there could be similarities to movies that do exist.

If there was one thing that Otoya usually didn’t think twice at his boyfriend wearing, it was a suit. They were idols; they’d been photographed in almost every kind of suit in almost every color known to man. Otoya himself had once sported a light blue one, which had been an unfortunate choice with his hair color, but what the photography director wanted, the photography director got. Tokiya was even known to wear a blazer just out casually, as if formalwear could somehow be dressed down (and, of course, it was Tokiya, so it magically worked, unlike when Otoya tried to piece together similar outfits in front of the mirror and just looked like he had gotten confused as to what the dress code was).

He was even wearing a suit now—they all were, since they were at the premiere of a new movie that Tokiya, Masato, and Ren had all been cast in—and while Otoya thought Tokiya did look wonderful enough in it to justify staring at him most of the night, it was no more than the normal desire he felt. He would absolutely enjoy unwrapping his beautiful boyfriend later, but for now, he could savor the sight as it was. Tokiya looked the part of the leading man as he waved to the crowds and smiled his way through interviews. This role had been a talented detective who had no life outside of his work (Otoya had already teased Tokiya that he could draw on real-world experience), assisted by a flirtatious-but-genius gambler, played by Ren. They made a natural pair on the red carpet, playing off of each other, even making gentle jokes at the other’s expense. 

“How much longer will this go on?” Syo grumbled at Otoya’s side. All of STARISH was present, for support and to see the first showing, but Otoya had to agree that this part was kind of boring. They were just standing around and fielding the occasional question about how their fellow bandmates had dealt with the stress of filming. 

“It can’t be too long,” Natsuki said from his other side. “The showing should start soon!”

“Finally,” Otoya groaned. 

“Have you heard anything about this one, Otoya?” Cecil asked, leaning forward to look at him. “Masato wouldn’t tell me anything when I asked him about it.”

Otoya shook his head. “Other than it’s based on a book that both Tokiya and Masa like, I don’t know anything. Tokiya’s not really into sharing things about his roles if he thinks I won’t fall asleep during the movie.”

“Well, that’s a good sign at least!” Syo said with a grin. “If you won’t fall asleep, maybe it’ll be halfway interesting this time. Not like that historical drama we had to sit through a few months ago . . .”

Said historical drama was what Otoya was sure had to have been a full period reenactment of the Ikeda Inn incident, which, since samurai were super cool, should have been awesome. Instead, it was two and a half hours of slow swordplay, some shouting, and a ton of dark, candlelit backdrops. Otoya had indeed fallen asleep watching it.

“It was a little painful,” Natsuki agreed. “But they did really well in it! It wasn’t their fault!”

No, it certainly wasn’t, and Tokiya had looked damn good as Toshizou Hijikata. Otoya had gotten a sneak peek of that one, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy running his hand through Tokiya’s long slicked-back hair. He’d almost wanted to cry when Tokiya’d had to cut it for this new role.

“The doors are open!” Syo said, pulling Otoya and Cecil forward by their arms. “Come on, let’s go get the best seats!”

Thanks to Syo and Natsuki’s enthusiasm, they parted the crowd easily. It was another half hour after they were seated before the lights dimmed, and the projector started rolling, but when it did, the first thing Otoya was struck by was the solitary figure backlit by the sun in the opening sequence. Tall and statuesque, there was no doubt in his mind that it was Tokiya. A trench coat whipped around his legs in the wind. And then, as the camera panned around, Otoya’s breath caught in his throat.

It was Tokiya like he’d never seen him before. Hair styled messily, like he’d been running his fingers through it in stress (which was something he’d never do, of course, but Otoya had contemplated how good he might look if he did), a careless rumple in his collar, and his suit jacket and vest unbuttoned. It looked messy and untidy and so sexy that Otoya couldn’t imagine how everyone in this theatre could think about anything else. The closest thing he’d ever seen like this was post-makeout, all mussed up and lips kiss-bruised. But to see this . . .

God, Tokiya was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Of course, that was just the first scene, which made the rest of the movie hell to watch. Otoya wasn’t sure what the entire movie was about, because every time he thought he might have a clue, Tokiya showed up in the next scene and his brain got stuck watching his lips or his hands (or the scene where Tokiya slowly removed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves to the elbow that had Otoya crossing his legs). He certainly wasn’t falling asleep any time soon, at least. He was suddenly glad he’d preordered the DVD, because he had a feeling he was going to be rewatching this one several times.

After what felt like five years, the credits finally rolled, and Otoya felt the normal twinge of pride at seeing Tokiya’s name at the top of the cast list. The rest of STARISH next to him was murmuring about how good the movie was (someday he’d have to watch it for the plot), and the excitement in the air felt almost palpable. Everything had gone well, it seemed. Otoya would have to thank the stylist personally for that new look his boyfriend had worn, because he was pretty sure he had a new weak spot.

And then the director came out with a small crowd of familiarly dressed people, and Otoya wondered if he was in hell.

The main cast had changed into their costumes during the showing, so there, not ten meters away, was Tokiya, looking good enough to devour, with a faintly proud smile on his face as he thanked the crowd for their support. Otoya’s fingers itched to reach out and touch; he drummed them on his thigh and bit his tongue as hard as he could to distract himself. 

It didn’t work.

By the time they were released from the theatre, he was so riled up that it was hard to think straight. He wanted to touch, to kiss, to lick down the column of Tokiya’s throat and bury his fingers in those unruly locks. The character had been mostly serious (if not a little cute), so Otoya wanted to be the only one to see the predatory smile Tokiya wore whenever he was teasing as he widened the unbuttoned collar of his shirt just a little more to reveal the skin beneath it without giving away too much. He shifted on his feet, taking deep breaths in the attempt to calm himself down. He needed to avoid Tokiya _at all costs_ right now, because his self-control was nothing like his boyfriend’s; he would crack at the first glimpse of it up close.

He hung around Masato instead, who the crowd only briefly interacted with; he had been a minor character in the movie, the son of a yakuza boss or something. He and Ren had been in quite a few scenes together without Tokiya, which was fortunate because he could actually talk to Masato about how he had done. Acting wasn’t really Otoya’s forte, but some feedback was better than none, even if Otoya always thought Masato did well.

“I’m surprised you haven’t talked to Tokiya-kun yet,” Masato eventually said. He didn’t look insulted by it, just mildly interested. “Usually that’s your first stop.”

“There’s a huge crowd around him still! I’ll talk to him later anyways,” Otoya lied.

Masato appraised him with an inscrutable look for a second, and then smirked. “It is quite a different look for him, isn’t it?”

“Masa!”

Masato only chuckled at Otoya’s embarrassment. “I’m sure if you asked nicely, he might be able to bring that costume home.”

“They’ll keep it for archive, won’t they?” Otoya asked in confusion. “How could he bring it home?”

Masato winked, and then left to whisper something in Ren’s ear.

Perhaps not entirely coincidentally, the fire alarm was pulled three minutes later. 

“Come on, Icchi. It’s late; let’s just go home.” Ren was corralling Tokiya towards the set of taxis they had been assigned.

“But the costume—”

“You can bring it back in the morning. We’re all in the same boat, and the sprinklers went off anyways, so I doubt that our suits stayed dry back in the garment room,” Masato pointed out. “Come on, it’s late.”

“And I just want to go home, so let’s go.” Ren pushed Tokiya forward, and Otoya made sure to look down at his knees as he got into their cab. They had a cab driver to worry about now, not that hearsay from a taxi driver would go far . . . but he had the hint of an idea that if Otoya had descended on Tokiya with the hunger of a starved tiger, that might hit the ears of the press. It sounded scandalous for all of the right reasons. “Now, we’ll see you in the morning to return them, have a good night, and congrats, Ikki!” 

Otoya only got a glimpse of Ren’s grin as he closed the cab door, but the implication was clear enough. His face burned as he returned his gaze to his lap as quickly as he could.

Tokiya gave the driver their address and settled back into the seat, sounding slightly ruffled by the turn of events. It took him a few minutes to finally ask Otoya if he was feeling alright, although he didn’t sound convinced by the excuse of being tired. Otoya was tired though: tired of waiting to get to somewhere private where he could ambush the man beside him.

Although he worked hard to keep his brain in a “safe” space (trying to remember all of the chord progressions on Ultra Blast was usually quite the task), he quickly felt his attention slipping until all he could think about was how best to grab Tokiya’s attention when they got inside their apartment. Backing him up against the door so that he couldn’t escape? Taking it slow wouldn’t work; he was determined to take every garment from Tokiya’s body, including the scarf he currently had wound around his neck. Maybe he should whisper something in Tokiya’s ear to clue him in. But what? “I want to mess you up? I want you to mess me up?” Neither one sounded fitting. Instead, he licked his lips and waited, counting the seconds.

The taxi ride was extremely slow. It felt like ages before they were pulled up in front of their apartment complex, and even then, when Tokiya took out his wallet, it was like watching paint dry as the card was swiped. 

“You are so impatient,” Tokiya murmured in amusement once they were finally free to go up to their third-floor flat.

“I just want to get home.”

And yet, when Otoya finally unlocked the door, it wasn’t Tokiya who was pushed inside and backed up against the nearest wall. Otoya felt his back hit before he’d even realized what was happening, Tokiya’s arm pinning him there, not that Otoya would have moved. 

The predatory look Otoya had been dreaming about all night had appeared on Tokiya’s face, his lips spread into a smirk as he leaned in close, his mouth just centimeters away from Otoya’s cheek. Otoya could feel the puffs of warm breath as Tokiya chuckled. “Is this why you wanted to get home?” he asked coyly. He lowered his head so that their lips could brush, but deflected at the last moment, pecking the corner of Otoya’s mouth. “You’re usually so tired after events; I wonder what was different about this one?”

“You. This.” Otoya’s brain had practically short-circuited at this point, only supplying single-word answers, even as he tugged on Tokiya’s collar. 

That seemed to surprise Tokiya, enough that he broke character. “It looks so careless,” he said. “Nothing is ironed and my hair is a mess.”

Otoya slid his hands up to the aforementioned hair. “I love it,” he breathed. “You’re always so neat and this is . . .”

That elicited another chuckle. “I wonder which one of us looks more like a mess right now?” he asked, his eyes sharpening again. He was practically purring now, with that low, seductive tone that sounded like honey. “And you’re in that suit too . . . perhaps I should remove it, before it ruins your image.”

“Please.” It came out as more of a mewl, which would have been embarrassing had he not been so far gone, but Tokiya kissed him then, long and hard and desperate, and everything else flew from Otoya’s mind.

 

“How did you know?” Otoya asked later, indignant. Tokiya’s head was resting on his chest, and when he looked up through his dark lashes, it was enough to take Otoya’s breath away. “You practically ambushed me at the door. How did you know that’s what I was thinking about?”

Tokiya laughed and patted his abs to console him. “You’re not subtle. I’m pretty sure anyone could have figured it out, with the way you kept licking your lips in the car. And I might have been thinking about it too. You do clean up nice.” That statement was accentuated with a tap against Otoya’s bottom lip, probably meant to be teasing, but Otoya caught the finger between his lips and licked the tip before releasing it. That would teach him to tease.

“We have work in the morning,” Tokiya reminded him, but it sounded more like a groan.

“We’ll just have to make it quick then.”


End file.
